


Milk Glass and Honey

by WVW



Series: Daddy Issues [1]
Category: Legacies - Fandom, The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WVW/pseuds/WVW
Summary: The first time was her fault. The second time was his.





	Milk Glass and Honey

**Milk Glass and Honey**

The first time was her fault. Bourbon coating their tongues and calloused hands gently spreading her thighs. His mouth trembled around her nipple. She begged for him to stop crying after as she wiped him clean of the blood-tinged release. She could still taste his aftershave in the morning.

The second time was his. They knocked over the desk lamp as she begged him to move harder...deeper. She wanted it to hurt. It worked because he was in the mood to hurt someone. He didn't cry this time, but she did -long after she tucked herself into her dorm room bed, her insides still aching from his sharp thrusts. Her mother would be so disappointed. Her father, angry.

The third time was rushed and sloppy, saliva drying down her neck. Kol was in town and smelled her transgressions a mile away. Hope and Alaric couldn't be found out; this was undeniably wrong.

During third period she slipped into his office and kissed his chapped lips, ducking her head when he pushed away and croaked, “never again”.

She didn't answer Kol when he asked who was breaking her heart. “I hope you're being...careful,” he sighed, worry in his eyes as he hugged her goodbye. The thing about sex was it only felt good when she didn't care.

She showed up for dinner at the Salvatores' a week later, Elena had invited her when Hope was spotted eating lunch alone in the school's gardens. He was there in a scratchy wool sweater and a five o'clock shadow. He didn't look her in the eye in the expanse of the evening, except for when she asked him to pass the potatoes.

“Thanks Mr. Saltzman,” she murmured, the spoonful making a splat on her plate.

After dinner she ran a finger down the piano keys in the study. Damon cornered her, his gaze unrelenting. She could tell he knew. Alaric had a loose tongue during the men's late night drinking sessions at the school, that was obvious.

“Take out your daddy issues on someone else, baby Klaus,” Damon grinned unkindly over his drink.

“Like who, you?” Hope shot back, ignoring the desire to bust the glass with her magic.

He tilted his head to the side, eyes flicking towards the way she was leaning on her elbows, breasts spilling from the low cut sweater.

“Stef would have really liked you,” Damon admitted lightly, boots shuffling on hardwood as he approached.

“Why's that?” She stood taller and stepped closely, peering up into his sharp eyes. One little lift from her heels and she could press her lips to his. Not that she would, but she wanted him to think it was an option.

“He loved a good charity case.” He zipped up her hoodie sharply and blocked his mouth with a drink. The glass knocked into her chin, purposefully putting a wedge between their wine stained lips.

Hope accepted a ride home from Alaric, deciding she'd drive since his gaze was lazy with alcohol. The night air rushing through cracked windows brushed chill bumps up and down her arms. She drove them to their spot in the woods. They trained there and it’s where she kissed him the first time under a waning moon. He had kissed her back like he'd been surprised it felt good.

“No,” he rasped firmly, fumbling with his seat belt.

“I want to apologize. I want to say goodbye.” Her knuckles are white around the steering wheel and the beams cast shadows between the pines. “Something happened to me...I have trouble feeling. I make bad decisions and I want to feel guilty for them.”

He shook his head, but his whole body shook with it. “It's not your fault, I should have ne-”

“-It is. I did this to you. It's a spell Esther designed for Mikael when his attention veered. I only wanted someone to care about me enough to never leave. I took it too far because I was finally feeling something again.”

“You...you used magic on me?” He looked so damn hopeful. She swallowed hard.

“Yeah, so you can stop beating yourself up and move forward knowing it wasn't you. It was me.”

“Hope that's...that was...why me?”

She repeated Damon's term, “daddy issues.”

He sunk further into the seat, groaning in defeat, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, in a rushed and breathy tone, “you need help. I'll make sure you get help. This can stay between us, but I need to tell Caroline.”

Calmly, Hope brushed a crumb of dinner from his chin. Keeping hold of his chin between forefinger and thumb -she'd seen Elijah do it to her mom a million times- she explained softy, “then my family finds out. I don't want any harm coming to anyone, you know? I messed up and I know there's something wrong. I'm ready to get help.”

“Why the change of heart?” He sounded angry but in the worst kind of way -like it was fueled by devastation.

“Sometimes I think they watch me,” she glanced at his profile, sharpened by the moon glow, “my parents wouldn't be proud.”

“How do you stop what's been set in motion? I can't sleep, all I do is crave you. It's consuming and I'm miserable. I'm breaking drinking records I never wanted to top.”

“A bond created due to magic is unbreakable unless the creator severs it at the highest height.”

He jerked his chin away from her hold. “Yeah, I don't know what that means.”

“I'll say the incantation while we're joined one last time.”

His brows shot up. “That's the only way?”

“Death can sever it too but my family will get involved if they find you've killed and turned me.”

This time was different because she wanted to feel the best parts. She wanted the attention and affection rather than the pain and passion. She needed it because after this, it would be gone forever. After this, he wouldn't even remember it even happened at all.

His touches are uncontrolled and gripping. Everything stung and pinched and burned, leaving flushed streaks and angry marks on her skin. She bit his lip and climbed onto his lap, her school skirt draped around their joined flesh. He clawed the clasp of her bra and she pulsed around him as the spongy softness of his searing lips met her hardened nipples.

The first time this happened he had told her how perfect she fit. He had shaken with a heat and touched her skin with wonder and worshiping whispers. She became addicted to his words. Touching herself every night until the pads of her fingers pruned and thinking of his teeth, strong and beautiful like milk glass, skating across her swollen folds. He had lapped at her like she dripped honey and her body buzzed like a goddamned bee.

Now he ravished her wordlessly; a starving man alone with a stolen meal. He suckled at her earlobe, diamond jewelry clacking against blunt teeth. He was close, it happened quickly. She leaned back, propping on elbows against the dash and wishing he'd look at her rather than at the way his release looked dripping down her bare belly. It was their way of being careful.

Hope whispered an incantation, even though it was totally bogus. There was no spell. There was no magical bond. It was just fucked up sex between two damaged people. It was better he didn't blame himself. It was better that she replaced his vervain with something else so that her vampire friend could compel the memories away as soon as Hope got her goodbye.

“I'll miss this,” she whispered honestly.

“I guess it worked,” was his reply, blinking as if freed from magical chains.

It was two weeks before she was able to look him in the eye again. He smiled from the doorway during her potions class, raising a hand to wave. She smiled back and tried not to think about how perfect he had fit in all her spaces.

At night she no longer brought her body to the highest of heights. She pretended the creaks of the old school were the same as the settling of her home in New Orleans. The movement of students became her parents and family walking the halls. She pretended every night that things were as they were -and that they were proud.

She kissed her fingertips and whispered, “always and forever” before rolling to her side and tracing the memory of their smiles inside the safest realms of her mind.

Every night she wished her mother could tell her how to be happy without causing pain. Every night she wished her father could tell her how to forgive herself for the pain she caused others. Yet, night after night, she fell asleep knowing there were no take backs in this life. There were no do overs. There was only now and what she chose to do with it. And tonight, she chose to pretend she was that little girl who had made her parents so proud and worth the devastating sacrifices.

Tonight she was safe and she was unconditionally loved. Always and forever.

 


End file.
